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MacDonald, George, 1824-1905

"Malcolm"

"
"Then you put yourself in my hands, papa?"
"Yes; only you must mind what you're about, you know."
"That I will, and make them mind too," she answered, and the subject
was dropped.
Lady Florimel counted upon her influence with Malcolm, and his
again with his grandfather; but careful of her dignity, she would
not make direct advances; she would wait an opportunity of speaking
to him. But, although she visited the sand hill almost every
morning, an opportunity was not afforded her. Meanwhile, the state
of Duncan's bag and of Malcolm's hand forbidding, neither pipes
were played nor gun was fired to arouse marquis or burgess. When
a fortnight had thus passed, Lady Florimel grew anxious concerning
the justification of her boast, and the more so that her father
seemed to avoid all reference to it.

CHAPTER XXI: MEDIATION

At length it was clear to Lady Florimel that if her father had not
forgotten her undertaking, but was, as she believed, expecting from
her some able stroke of diplomacy, it was high time that something
should be done to save her credit. Nor did she forget that the
unpiped silence of the royal burgh was the memento of a practical
joke of her father, so cruel that a piper would not accept the
handsome propitiation offered on its account by a marquis.
On a lovely evening, therefore, the sunlight lying slant on waters
that heaved and sunk in a flowing tide, now catching the gold on
lifted crests, now losing it in purple hollows, Lady Florimel found
herself for the first time, walking from the lower gate towards
the Seaton.


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